The Turned Page
by mrs.milfoy
Summary: Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger are devastated to learn their favourite book shoppe is closing. But perhaps a new establishment holds tantalizing promise for at least one of the pair - and the proprietor. It's Lunissa! Or Naruna. Or Lovefoy? Malfgood? Potato, potahto... Femmeslash!


"...so I can't understand why she still insists on leaving her shoes out by the door knowing nargles are going to run off with them."

"Luna, I don't think nargles are the real problem here." Hermione Granger pushed past a group of giggling Hogwarts fourth years. "I think the real issue is that your roommate is a slob and you're tired of pulling up the slack. I also think she's stealing from you."

"Do you?" Luna Lovegood actually stopped on the cobblestone walk, pausing to process this distatasteful bit of news. "But the soap -"

"Yes, Luna! I think she's using your soap! And your shampoo! And I think she took the 6 galleons you left on the tea table. Stop blaming bloody nargles and...whatever else it was you blamed."

"Bicklegrags."

"Whatever!" Hermione tugged the Ravenclaw's arm. "Come on. Flourish and Blott's will be closed by the time we get there. Crowded today."

Diagon Alley was awash with students preparing to return to Hogwarts. The friends' usual Friday outing was far noisier and bustlier than they'd expected. But they would have been lying to say that parts of them didn't enjoy seeing the fresh faces of young magical folk. Nostalgia dripped like sweat down the spine.

"Well, what should I do?" Luna asked, skipping over a storm drain. "I mean, the rent is all I can afford, and that's _with_ a roommate."

"Luna. Harry's told you time and again you're welcome at Grimmauld with us. I spend most of my time at the Burrow now, anyway. He'd probably appreciate the company when he's not working."

"I can't rely on Harry's generosity like that." They dodged a low-flying broom. "And it's good for me to be on my own now. I just wish the Quibbler paid better."

Hermione rolled her eyes. The Quibbler - Luna's privately published news magazine (if one could call made-up creatures and gossip about carnivorous plants 'news') - was performing as well as it usually did: poorly. It really only appealed to the pre-pubescent and barely pubescent, despite the witch's attempts to mature the material.

In the months following the war, she'd published several in-depth and thought-provoking interviews with various war heroes (including their friend Harry Potter, himself), but those issues had actually sold even less than her usual gibberish (as Hermione affectionately called it). So now she struggled to stay afloat in her quest for a more permanent and fulfilling career.

The problem was, most of her peers had absolutely no idea what they wanted to do in life. Apparently, Hermione had read in legitimate publications, this was a trend since the second wizarding war. The participants - most of whom were teenagers then (and some now - three years after) - tended to flit about aimlessly from one job to another, rarely committing themselves to any permanence.

It was much the same with their relationships, which Hermione had discovered with Ron. Once the war was over, their passions seemed to...cool a bit. Life outside of each other - now possible - became more interesting than life inside of each other. They slowly drifted apart until… Well, they seemed to have started over again, really. Moving from close friends to possibly something more.

And Luna was going through the same shift with Neville, it seemed. "Well, you've got to do something, Luna. You can't let that girl keep robbing you blind and blaming nifflers." Ahead, Flourish and Blott's came into view. Hermione cleared her throat. "How is Neville, by the way?"

Luna shrugged. "Meh. We don't see each other often anymore."

"Oh." Granger tried not to appear sympathetic. Luna didn't seem bothered, after all. "Well. He is at Hogwarts often."

"If by often you mean all the time, then yes." But the fact didn't seem to remove the bounce from Luna's step.

"So long as you don't blame yourself." Hermione said, always slightly worried for her often (seeming) oblivious friend.

"Oh, actually I do." Luna supplied matter of factly. "He said I am too sexually demanding."

Now it was Hermione's turn to stop mid-stride. Her turn to process distasteful information. "Oh. Wow. Well, then…" Luna's gasp halted Granger's vivid imagination (thankfully). "What?"

The blonde turned on Flourish and Blott's welcoming stoop. "Look!" She pointed to a sign in the aged door panel.

"Oh my gods!" It was the only moment (including the moment she obliviated her parents out of her life forever) that Hermione Granger truly felt her heart break.

**_Flourish and Blott's_**

**_CLOSING_**

**_Permanently Due to Lack _**

**_of Interest_**

**_Good-bye, Cruel World!_**

"Lack of interest!" Hermione cried. She pushed through the door, hearing its jolly bell jingle for what was probably the last time. "That's not possible!"

But even as she spoke the possibility presented itself in stark obviousness. The shop was empty save for them, and the wizened old wizard behind its counter. "Hello, girls." His dusty, tired voice wheezed.

Hermione marched directly to the splintery counter. "Is that true?" She gestured accusingly to the sign. "Flourish and Blott's can't truly be closing!"

"Oh, I'm afraid it is, child." Wizards reached an age whereupon any person under the age of sixty was 'child.'

"Why?" If Hermione had sounded any more petulant, she might have lived up to the wizard's nomenclature perfectly.

"It's time," he answered with the calm of the elderly. "Since ol' Blotty died. And with the new contraptions these days… the MagePad? Is that what it's called? Putting me out of business. No call for real books, anymore."

(The MagePad was a handheld slate that magically produced any piece of literature available for a small monthly fee - complete with animated illustrations. Recently both a High Definition and colour version had become available, and shamefully, even Hermione had to confess she coveted the device. But she would certainly _not_ be confessing that _now. _Not when a slice of her childhood was on the block.) "But…" She stuttered, glanced around desperately at nearly emptied shelves. "What about Hogwarts? Don't they order books from you?"

Old Flourish shook his wrinkled head sadly. "Not anymore. Minerva's found that ordering in bulk from big American distributors allows her to avoid high British taxes. Saves her quite a few galleons, I imagine."

"That's...that's insane!" Granger spluttered angrily.

"Actually it sounds quite sensible," Luna offered.

"Shut up, Luna!" Hermione rounded on Flourish. "Isn't there anything we can do? Take up a collection? Advertise? Something?!"

"I appreciate your eagerness, my child. But no. I'm afraid I'm ready to retire, as it is. Moving to Florida, actually. Did you know bacon comes in packs of twenty rashers there? Or more!" He chuckled, clearly excited for his prospects.

Hermione could only shake her head, eyes threatening to release hordes of tears. Luna stroked her shoulder. "Come on, Hermione. Let's just find something nice to read while we can."

"But...where will we get our books now?"

Flourish had an answer for that, too. "There's always Amazon Owl Post, girls! Sometimes you can even get the new releases there a whole day early! And I've some news that will put smiles back on your faces today: going out of business sale! Half off!"

Hermione turned away from his too genial smile. She followed Luna to the now slim New and Notable section, but with a heavy heart indeed. Half off or not, she couldn't seem to work up her usual fervor for book shopping. The girls left with only a few purchases, and could barely meet old Flourish's cataracts when he bade them a watery good-bye.

They never once caught sight of the hooded stranger, quietly reading (see: spying) in a shadowed corner wingback. When the two young witches finally departed, a pair of shapely legs crossed. Leather chair creaked. Heel clicked on aged floor. A plan formed in a pretty head.

* * *

><p>"You did the right thing, Luna. Stop feeling bad. Worst case scenario, she just moved back in with her parents."<p>

"I really didn't want to give her the boot, you know." Diagon Alley was much calmer this Friday. All students were safely stowed away at Hogwarts, and life had returned to a normal - if slightly slower pace. "But after you told me she was using my soap...well, that was just the last straw."

Hermione rubbed Luna's shoulder. Pulled her in for a one-armed hug as they passed Madam Malkin's colourful window. "How is the new roommate? Wasn't she a Ravenclaw, too?"

"No. She was a Hufflepuff. She mostly stays in her room crying all day and planning romantic suicides. Unless she's playing with her cat."

"Where is she working?"

"She _was _working as a dipping maid at Florean Fortescue's. But a barrel of Pistachio Pumpkin rolled over her foot a few days ago and she quit. Now when she sees a pistachio her toes cramp up."

Hermione scowled. "That's just ridiculous! She has to have a job. She has to help you pay rent!"

"She had an interview at the Ministry yesterday. In the Auror filing department."

"Oh? How did that go?"

Luna shrugged. "Not well. Apparently her interviewer produced a parcel of pistachios and proffered them politely. She promptly puked, then plopped in the puddle per her cramped up piggies."

Hermione stopped in the walkway to stare at her friend. "Luna…"

"Oh, look!" Luna pointed over Hermione's shoulder.

Granger turned. For weeks now they'd avoided Flourish & Blott's entirely, not wanting to revisit painful memories. But now, a new sign hung in it's suddenly clean front window.

_**Opening Soon-**_

_**The Turned Page**_

_**Books for all Intrigues**_

_**Now Hiring**_

_**Inquire Within**_

"Wonderful!" Hermione clapped, genuinely delighted. "A new bookstore! With real books! And you know what else?"

Luna cocked her head thoughtfully. "Oh, probably journals and quills and things like that."

"No, Luna. Focus." Hermione turned her friend by the shoulders. "I mean, do you know what else this means?"

"No."

"You can get your roommate a job there! No pistachios, no pumpkin ice cream. Should be completely safe."

"Oh."

"What?"

"I was thinking I would get a job there."

"Oh." Hermione considered. "But you already have a job."

"Well, like I said. The Quibbler doesn't pay very well. And who wouldn't want to work in a bookstore?"

"You're right there." Granger nodded. "D'you think they'll hire us both?" She was dreadfully bored at her Magical Customs desk job, and a little side money could support her monthly MagePad payments.

"Let's find out." Luna took her hand, and they pushed through the newly painted door.

It was a new jingle that greeted them. Less a jingle, and more a subtle tinkle. In fact, it was a magical tinkle. There was no bell anymore. Nor was there dust anymore. Or clutter. Or splintery desk.

Instead, there was light from two skylights pouring onto pine shelving. Polished floors. Plush rugs here and there. Velvet chaises and fluffy chairs. In a far corner, an elf was sanding a new counter. Stools surrounded it, and there was a shiny brass espresso machine. "This is amazing," Hermione said. "It's modeled after muggle bookstores! I mean, kind of."

"It's very pretty." Luna looked around. "Brighter than Flourish's ever was."

"Are you ladies here about employment?"

They turned, eyes falling down to the voice. A little elf. "Yes. We are. I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Luna Lovegood."

"Hello!" Luna waved at the creature.

"This way." It stowed a polishing cloth in its trim grey apron. "Follow Pip." They followed the elf past the new main counter with its sleek ebony top. Down a hallway lit with flickering sconces. At the end of the hallway, Hermione could see boxes. And atop the boxes - books. So many books... Her fingertips itched to explore them.

On their right, they approached an open doorway. Pip gestured for the girls to wait just as his name was called. "Pip? Did the service wizard come about the fountain? I can't have a non-gurgling fountain on my patio. There must be gurgling."

Pip bowed in the door. "Yes, mistress. Also there are two witches here."

"Three, Pip." The as yet unseen mistress replied within. "Three witches including myself. One elf, who is fetching us coffee. And hopefully - one service wizard tending one non-gurgling fountain. Correct?"

"Correct, Mistress."

"Are they here for employment?" Obviously, Mistress was unaware she was being overheard.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Send them to me, then. And I do hope they aren't complete wastes of magical blood like the last ones." A chair was heard creaking. "Are either of them dribbling, drooling, dragging limbs or wearing protective head gear?"

"No, Mistress!" Pip's ears folded just slightly at the thought of such misfortune.

"Well, that's a start."

Pip gestured to the door. Hermione and Luna regarded each other warily before stepping past the simpering elf. "I shall fetch the coffees, Mistress."

"Thank you, Pip." Hermione was the first to enter the room. The first to properly see The Turned Page's Proprietor. The first to balk and gasp. "Miss Granger." The witch behind the desk crossed her legs on said desk, flicking a bit of dust from the tip of one dragon-skinned toe. "Why am I not surprised to see you here?" Luna peered around Hermione's shoulder. "And Miss Lovegood... Do you, I wonder?"

"Mrs...Mrs. Malfoy?" Hermione nearly squeaked. She wasn't prepared for this at all. "I...I…"

Narcissa smiled. Folded ringed fingers across the belly of her trim red suit. "Still want the job?" She asked.

"Ah...um. I mean…"

"Yes!" Luna spoke brightly. Stepped from behind her dumbstruck friend. "And is there coffee on the way? That sounds lovely." She sat in one of two leather chairs facing the desk, expression reading 'this happens every day.' "How have you been?"

Hermione stared between the two witches, too stunned to speak really. And if Luna seemed perfectly at home, Narcissa seemed perfectly entertained. Her elegantly manicured brows arched. "I've been rather bored, myself, Miss Lovegood. Thank you for inquiring."

Luna nodded. "Time for a business adventure, then."

Cissa chuckled. It was a deep, sexy sound. "It is that." She gestured to the other leather chair. "Sit, Miss Granger. And join us for coffee. I shall outline my employment needs. Ah, thank you, Pip." Pip had appeared with a small coffee service. "Cappuccinos," she announced. "There's sugar, if you like. I prefer mine sweet, creamy and worked to a thick froth." Her cool blue gaze sliced to Luna.

Hermione looked slightly disturbed as she took her cup. "Um… Thank you?" She spoke uncertainly.

But Luna was licking sugar directly from a spoon. "That's just how _I_ like them!" She announced brightly.

"Perrrfect," Narcissa purred. "Now. Until I'm open for business, I'm afraid there's to be only set up. And while my elf is more than competent in cleaning, I'm afraid he's completely illiterate. I need someone who can alphabetise and organise." She looked at the young witches innocently. "I assume both of you can spell?"

Hermione squinted, offended. "Quite."

"Wonderful." She pushed a plate of biscuits toward them. "It will be hard work. I'm a rather… demanding mistress."

"Hard work is rewarding work," Luna said solemnly. "I've always felt that way."

"Me too, Miss Lovegood." Narcissa grinned cat-like. "Me, too."

Hermione, as usual, was the pragmatist. "So...is that it? Or will there still be work after the set-up? I suppose I'm asking if this is a permanent position or a temporary one."

"Then why didn't you ask that?" Cissa blinked at Hermione as if she'd forgotten the Gryffindor was there.

"Er…"

"It will be a permanent position." The Malfoy ignored the stammering. "If the work is found to be satisfactory."

"I see." Now Hermione blinked. "So...are you looking to employ both of us?"

Narcissa looked at Granger the way one would inspect a cut of beef. "I suppose," she answered slowly. "I'd like to put one of you...out there." She flicked her hand. "Shelving the books. Working with the people." As an aside, she added, "I've never been much of a people person."

"I can't imagine that," Hermione snipped.

A withering Malfoy gaze. "And one of you - I imagine the more _pleasant_ of you (a hard scowl at Hermione) - will work mainly here with me. Behind the scenes. Inventory and other such...intimate things."

Luna practically leapt from her seat. Her cappuccino sloshed a bit. "I'm very good at inventorying! Professor Snape told me so. I used to have to organise his potions cabinet all the time when Neville had detention because he was afraid of most of the things in there. I'm very detail oriented."

"Are you?" Narcissa toyed with her own spoon. Tapped it against her teeth. "Attention to detail is so important if true satisfaction is to be achieved." She sniffed. "Well. I suppose I've found the right candidates." Luna beamed. Hermione cringed. Narcissa waved at her door. "You're dismissed. Report back here Monday morning. If you want the jobs, that is."

Hermione was shaking her head in the street. She felt slightly Imperiused. "I'm not really certain what just happened."

"I got a job!" Luna skipped. "Or at least a better job."

"Working for Narcissa Malfoy," Hermione reminded warily. "And I don't know, Luna. Something seemed very suspicious in there. I don't care for the way she was looking at you."

"Do you think she liked my earrings?" Luna bobbed her head. Her handmade onions glinted in the sunlight. "They _are_ unique. And quite fetching."

"I don't think it was your earrings, Luna. And what the hell was that whole bit about working intimately with her? I don't think that sounds professional at all!"

"She just means we'll be in the back together a lot." Luna smiled reassuringly. "You know. Inventory. That's important!" She stopped suddenly, regarded Hermione with concern. "Are you jealous because I got the inventory position? You should have spoken up. I thought you seemed rather stand-offish."

Hermione drew up like a wet pygmy puff. "Luna! Are you completely daft?" She pointed back to The Turned Page. "That witch was...was _flirting_ with you! Disgustingly, I might add! And you just trotted along with everything she said like a trained hippogriff! It's no wonder she gave you the 'intimate' position!" Hermione made urgent quotation marks with her fingers.

"I see." Luna nodded gentle understanding. Closed her eyes and sighed. "Hermione." She took her friend's currently animated hands, stilling them. "You're jealous because she was flirting with me. Not because of the job." Hermione's mouth gaped. "Attraction is such a fickle thing. Don't be upset. You're just...not her type."

"You're deluded." Hermione snatched her hands away. "And...did you know all along in there? It can't be alright with you that the woman who held you captive in her cellar for weeks is planning your possibly violent seduction!"

Luna shivered a little. "Ooooh, do you think so?"

"Luna!"

But Luna was already walking away. "She has very pretty legs, don't you think?"

"That's twisted." Hermione caught up. "I think I might vomit. Why were you looking at her legs, anyway?"

"I was thinking of measuring them," Luna replied. "With my mouth." Granger whirled away, gagging into a storm drain. Luna carried on ahead, smiling, pony tail swaying in her wake.

* * *

><p>Luna was a morning person. Really, she was an any time of day person. But this Monday morning was particularly nice. She rolled over on a pygmy puff. It squeaked angrily. In the lav, she brushed her teeth with Listen and Glisten paste, enjoyed the tune it produced to match her mood, which was very upbeat.<p>

In her shower she used a generous pink and foamy gob of No Hair There - Or Anywhere! simply everywhere. It smelled like strawberries and cream, so she selected Berry Hairy Shampoo and Dream Cream Conditioner. When her shower smelled thoroughly like a pastry shop, she exited the stall in a plume of heavy steam.

A quick drying charm on hair and she dusted Soft as Sighs on her body, sat to her rainbow-painted vanity. Make-up. "Professional," she whispered. A little stripe of violet eyeliner with a feathery little wing. A touch of purple on her lashes. Dash of pink lip gloss (cherry flavoured). A kissy face at her mirror produced bursting bubble hearts.

She scampered naked to her wardrobe, donned a soft, dove grey skirt and a pink jumper with raspberries printed on. Purple glitter slip-ons later, she was ready to go to work.

"You've put your hair up!"

Hemione turned to her friend outside of Florean Fortescue's and offered her a caramel latte. "Yes, I have."

"Must have been powerful magic." Luna sipped. Hermione scowled. "Mmmm, this is good! Are you excited about work?"

"No one is excited about work, Luna. That's why it's called work." They set off in the direction of The Turned Page. Morning saw a calm, little trafficked Diagon Alley.

"Well. I'm excited." And Luna skipped a little to prove it. Her coffee sloshed, and she performed a quick cleaning charm on her jumper. "Do I look professional?"

Granger rolled her eyes. "No. And you smell like a pastry."

Luna twirled. "Thank you!"

"Luna…"

"Hm?" The witches paused outside of the dim bookshop.

Hermione sighed heavily. "Just...nothing." Then the door opened, and Pip - wearing a miniature leatherman's apron - ushered them inside.

"Mistress has tasks all assigned." The elf delegated, handing Hermione a small list. "These boxes is to be sorted to their section. Then we may start to putting them on shelfs."

Granger smiled at her list. Despite her words earlier, she was more than excited to get her hands on books. She glanced up at the hanging signs that designated the literatures' various categories: _**New. General Conversation (In-Law Approved). Non-General Conversation. Fiction (It Didn't Happen). Non-Fiction (It Probably Still Didn't Happen). Poesy. Health and Being (well or Not). Magical Matter. Dark Matter (Mind the Kiddies). Boudoir Matter (Doubly Mind the Kiddies). **_She smirked. Well, the sign did say for all intrigues… "Is the Mistress here today?" She asked, off-handed.

"Indeed she is." They turned to see Narcissa Malfoy perched upon her newly polished counter. Her trim black skirt revealed crossed legs and a rather sheer white blouse revealed satin corsetry beneath. She sipped a tiny cup of espresso, leaving a light print of deep red lipstick. Hair in a black and white bun, she smiled predatorily. "Good morning, girls."

It was a little known fact that Narcissa Malfoy had an inconquerable sweet tooth. She'd never bothered battling the weakness, and simply scavenged desserts like a Valkyrie. And this morning, she'd most definitely picked up the scent of sinful berry in the air. Her mouth watered. She dropped lithely from her counter, light on heeled toes, and simply tossed her empty cup. Pip caught it smoothly, practiced. She approached her employees. "Miss Granger, I trust your task today shall offer you no difficulties?"

"I don't think so," Hermione answered. "Should be fun."

"Excellent." The Slytherin slithered between the girls, ignoring propriety. "Miss Lovegood (ahem). You'll work with me today. In the back." She picked a bit of nothing from Luna's tempting cashmere jumper. "Inventory."

"Yes, ma'am." Luna looked a bit glazed.

Hermione rolled her eyes and bent to open her first box. She heard the witches walking away, and looked up just in time to see Narcissa's arm wrap familiarly across Luna's shoulders. "I think this shall be a most rewarding professional relationship, Luna. May I call you Luna?"

"Of course, ma'am!"

Again Hermione's eyes rolled. "Then you must call me Narcissa." Their voices grew more distant.

"Whatever you wish, Narcissa." At that, Hermione made a gagging motion.

"Wonderful. And if you don't mind my saying, Luna - you smell absolutely delicious." At the end of the hallway, a door slammed shut with finality. Hermione looked at the elf. It shrugged.

Narcissa pressed her own back to the slammed door, capturing her hands behind her. It was the only way she could control them. Her prey turned before a wall of boxes, books spilling out randomly. Luna's eyes narrowed and her polished blonde brow arched. "Shall we begin… Narcissa?"

Pastry and berry cloyed. Malfoy toes curled in shiny pumps. "I suppose we could start categorising and separating?"

Prim nostrils flared. A Ravenclaw smirk. "Separating? I think it's more fun to come together." Boldly, surprisingly, she stepped to the proprietress improprietous. "Don't you agree?"

"I underestimated your insight, Luna," Cissa breathed hotly. Her hands left their self-imposed imprisonment, clutched at velvet skirt. The chit was too close. Senses waged war with sense.

"And perhaps I underestimated your intentions, Narcissa." Luna's eyes downcast. "Pity."

"Hardly." Slytherin struck and the raven was caught. Their mouths were bitter espresso and sweet cooked caramel. Narcissa's fingers tangled in Luna's spidersilk hair, holding her head captive for kissing. But Luna needn't be captured. She was eagerly freeing her captor's hair from its tight confines as the two witches' tongues dueled for dominance.

The elder of the pair moaned pleasure while the younger whimpered eagerness. They bumped a pile of boxes and books flooded - dam of literature broken. Their tangled feet tripped and books were a makeshift bed beneath their straining bodies.

For the moment, Luna was on top. She gasped for breath, looking down on the heaving Malfoy. "I was afraid it was just me," she prattled. Her hands trembled on her boss's blouse buttons. "That I was imagining you would want me this way." She had little patience for lingerie, made quick work of it. "Oh!" She bit her lip at the pale bared breasts and dipped for a taste.

"You silly girl." Cissa arched into exploring mouth, hands yanking soft jumper. "I would have had you on my desk day one had you not brought your friend along. Ah!" Luna's hands had slipped beneath skirt, rucking the fabric up. A shift in power was in order.

She lost her jumper in mid-flip, hot back slapping against cool leather-clad tomes. And if she'd thought she couldn't get any wetter… "Fucking gorgeous little thing," Narcissa growled. She straddled Luna's legs and slowly ebony wand sleeked betwixt panting bosoms. Thin bra strap surrendered snapping, and witch lips were licked. "I'm going to enjoy you most thoroughly."

"There can be copious mutual enjoyment if you'll allow it, Narcissa." She sat up, displacing a few classics, dragged her tongue up center of Malfoy torso. Her head was wrenched lovingly back.

"My brilliant, beautiful bird." Cissa's teeth nipped lips. This kiss was combination claiming and surrendering. "I belong to you."

"Perfect." Luna urged her mistress back. "Then I shall belong to you, too." She was most keen to explore hidden folds, to touch, to taste. Fortunately Narcissa was keen to allow such activity. Knickers ripped. Stockings ran. Over bunched folds of skirt, she watched Luna's quick-to-learn mouth quickly learn her undoings.

"So sweet, Miss Lovegood," she hissed, petting. "I knew you were the right choice. There!" It wasn't often she squealed so, but she'd been wound tightly for days and the orgasm hit too quickly. "Brash, impetuous mouth!" She shoved the girl's head away none too gently. "Let me teach you how to do it properly."

Still catching her breath, she tugged Luna's skirt down lithe, trembling legs. Eyes wide with wonder and a (tiny) fear, Lovegood settled on her elbows - uneven books providing awkward rest. She shook with excitement, and her lover gave her calves and thighs long, soothing strokes.

"Hush, little fledgling," Narcissa cooed. "Why do you shake so?" She kissed Luna's sharp knees softly, insinuating herself between them. "Open up for me, dahling. Let me taste that neglected flower."

On a sigh, Luna abandoned modesty. How could this woman have known that this would be her first foray into the oral arena? It had been one thing to dive in, to bury chin in another's forbidden, addictive cunt and experiment. (And nice that the test subject had no complaints.) But it was another to bare oneself to the same treatment...though she'd asked Neville for it often enough.

And now a scalding snake of a witch was licking her way up pale skin, skirting the pink, pulsing need, nipping at pelvic bone protrusion. Luna mewled. The audacity! She squeezed her eyes closed and whimpered, "Please."

A dark chuckle from below, and then fire. The seductress' tongue was made of solid sin. It poured molten wanton onto inexperienced pussy and was in no hurry to alleviate the swell it created. "See?" Narcissa spoke, allowing her fingers to take up the slack. "Slowly," she said. Lick. "Gently." Lick. Her fingers plunged, stroked, thrummed.

Luna shuddered. Her own fingers gripped a particularly sizable book resting over her head. "Yes, I see," she gasped. "Oh, Narcissa!"

But Cissa's mouth was preoccupied. She hummed and sucked a secretive clit, folded a sticky hand over the abdomen that bucked in response. "Yes!" The girl cried out.

The Malfoy matron let the girl linger just a moment longer, flicking that little swollen bead, content to watch her pale employee writhe, sweaty and glistening. _Learning as always. But time later for sweet torture. Break her in slowly…_ So she crooked her fingers just so, pumped the clinging slit and sucked as she'd been bidden.

The chit's body-wracking surrender sealed her fate. "Shhhh," Narcissa cooed again as the waves rolled out. "Lovely, Luna." She kissed her way up fey form, lingering over pert breasts she intended to fully exploit later. "Very good, my petal."

Luna turned into the caresses, returned them, counting reticulating ribs. "Quite," she murmured tiredly. "I'll do better next time, boss."

Narcissa chuckled. "I imagine you'll best me every time once we get you properly...trained. I've such delights to share with you."

"So you'll be keeping me on, then." Luna's eyes sparkled.

Narcissa studied her young charge, propped on a pile of poetry. There was an arithmancy volume stuck to the girl's sweaty hip. "You know," Cissa spoke slowly, "there's a furnished apartment above this shop." She knocked the book off Luna's skin. "I could keep you on quite permanently there."

Luna propped, too. "Does it have bicklegrags?"

"No. Much worse, I'm afraid."

"What could be worse than bicklegrags?"

Laughing, Narcissa tumbled the younger witch back into books. "A calculating Slytherin succubus who may frequently invade your bed, demanding sexual appeasement in the sacrifice of your supple body and sweet spendings." They kissed deeply.

When she pulled away, Luna stroked Cissa's face, smiling. "I think I can handle that better than bicklegrags."

"Excellent." Narcissa soundly smacked a naked buttock, enjoying the answering yelp. "Now. I must go check on your Miss Granger's progress - though I doubt it shall be anywhere near as satisfactory as yours, my pet." She pulled Luna to her shaky feet, carefully traversing scattered books and scanning about for their scattered attire. "After all, I've a bookshop to run, and my inventory is a mess."

Luna produced her wand from her rumpled jumper. "I'll take care of that." She straightened her swirly skirt and jumper. Raspberries danced.

Narcissa cast her a glance over a now-dressed shoulder. "See that you do." She buttoned briskly. Tucked her own wand back into smoothed skirt and stepped into her heels again. "I'll be back for tea," she told Luna, purposefully catching a radish earring in white, sharp teeth. "And round two." She was magically re-affixing her hair when she whisked away.

Luna shivered. At the door's closing, she grinned. Raised her wand to the badly strewn books and boxes. Whispered to herself. "Best. Job. Ever."

**AN: **I was bored with my usual pairings and thought I'd branch out. I haven't seen much of these two together, and I think they have a certain charm. Thinking of making this into a bit of a series - sort of kinky, S & M type stuff. What do you ladies and gents think?


End file.
